The Joker Card
by x.Anaphora.x
Summary: Wren Collings thought she had a solid hand. A supportive family, serious boyfriend, good friends, stellar grades, and a promising future were all in her cards. But after attending the Quidditch World Cup with her family, she realizes that there was one thing she forgot about: the joker in the pack. (Fred/OC)
1. Morning Glory

**(Chapter 1): Morning Glory**

**Author's Note:: **_I've decided to re-release this story. I've been working on it for a couple of years, and I finally ironed out everything so it should be pretty fantastic. But I'd love to hear what you think, so let me know!_

* * *

"Wren, get up; it's time!"

Wren made a muffled sound of disapproval as she squeezed her eyes shut tighter together, and in one fluid movement, pulled the blankets up higher while rolling away from the hand that was attempting to shake her awake.

"Geroff." She mumbled into her pillow.

"Honestly, Wren! Come on!" Her cousin reached further, leaning on the bed and continuing to shake Wren. Wren retreated even further into her sheets so that they now covered her head. After a few more seconds of shaking, Wren felt her cousin take a firm grip of the sheets and Wren quickly shot up, flinging an arm out to stop her cousin.

"Ok, I'm up." She gasped.

Her cousin relinquished the sheets with a small, "Good!" as Wren ran a hand over her face, attempting to wipe away some of the residual sleepiness. Her heart was still pounding from her near encounter with the floor. She should have known that her actions would only lead her cousin to take more drastic measures.

Calmer, Wren turned to face her cousin, Nora, who stood completely dressed in her muggle outfit. She wore a faded denim button up shirt, tucked into a red plaid skirt that had a zipper running from top to bottom right in the middle of the front. She had pulled on a pair of her own light green tights to pair with the outfit, which ended in a pair of black combat boots. She had pulled her curly light brown hair up into a ponytail. Wren had a hard time believing that muggles would ever wear anything so ridiculous, but she had been there when Nora bought the outfit in the nearby muggle-inhabited village, and no one had looked at her _too_ oddly. "Now hurry up and get dressed or we'll be late."

"I can hardly imagine being late for anything if I'm getting up _this _early." Wren grumbled. Unlike Nora, Wren was _not _a morning person.

"You know how it is. It's not like we haven't been before. Now _come on_." Nora took Wren's arm and pulled on it. It was as if she were eleven and eager to get to the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Her behavior did not reflect that of someone ready to start their penultimate year of Hogwarts.

"Ok, ok!" Wren said, kicking the sheets off of her legs and using her free hand to help her stand up.

"Now you're up." Nora let Wren's arm drop with a bright smile. "I'll see you downstairs. Mum made a full Irish breakfast! Yum!"

_Hufflepuff. _Wren thought begrudgingly, a yawn overtaking her as her cousin left.

Luckily, Wren had somewhat prepared herself for this morning and had laid out her outfit on the top of her dresser last night so that she didn't need to think about it now. Quickly changing out of her pajamas, Wren tugged on a pair of purple tights and pulled a rose pink, floral babydoll dress over her head. Wren finished the look with a denim jacket and a pair of black combat boots that matched Nora's. Without much care, Wren brushed her hair back, and considered twisting it into a plait before deciding that she was much to tired to let her arms do all of that work. Instead, Wren left her hair down and slipped a couple of hair ties onto her wrist just in case. There was no point in seeking out any more accessories due to the fact that she was already planning on spending a good bit of money on Irish merchandise once she was there. Wren quickly moved down the stairs and found the rest of her family was already about halfway through their breakfast that her Aunt Kathleen had made in order to get them into the spirit of the upcoming match.

"Now look who's decided to join us for breakfast." Wren's mother teased, looking up from her plate.

"Morning" Wren said, still a bit moody as she sunk into the chair next to her mother. He rmother leaned over and kissed the side of her head.

"Eat quickly. We have ten minutes before we should make our way out." Wren grumbled a little more just for good measure before quickly piling food on her plate and devouring it as quickly as possible. Soon, the two families were out of the house and walking down the path to where the Portkey was located.

Leading the way down the path was Wren's father. He was a rather handsome man, tall and thin with bright blue eyes and a long nose that Wren's mother would tweak when he was being too silly or too serious. While his hairline had noticeably receded over the past few years, he still had a good amount of dirty blonde hair. However, this condition led Wren's mother to frequently tease him that his forehead was growing and soon it would take over the rest of his head. She would then kiss his head and ruffle his hair lovingly. Wren's mother was quite the teaser, and she could get away with it, not only because she was his wife and generally kind, but because she was also quite beautiful. Wren's mother was tall and lithe with dark brown (almost black) hair that fell down just past her shoulders. She had an ovular face with dark brown eyes that always seemed to sparkle set on either side of a straight, thin nose. But what Wren loved most about her mother was her huge and bright smile which always seemed to pull the attention of the men wherever she went. Wren's mother was just one of those girls who exuded class, charm, and yet somehow fun, managing to have everyone falling all over her; however, she was far too much in love with Wren's father to ever capitalize on her position.

While Wren had inherited her mother's looks for the most part, she had not inherited the aura that surrounded them that made her mother such a popular figure. Perhaps it was the fact that Wren did not look exactly like her mother. Like both of her parents, Wren was thin and relatively tall, a good six inches taller than her cousin, coming in at about 5'8". She had a heart shaped face with reasonably sized features so that they all worked, none sticking out more than the rest to form a defining feature. She was lucky enough to never have had to battle with acne, so her skin was smooth and clear, and though it was pale, it was a bit tanner for the hours she spent enjoying the outdoors in the summer. She had her mother's round dark brown eyes, and straight nose, but her father's dusting of freckles across her nose as well as his shy smile. Her hair was her own, a glossy chocolate brown that fell down to her mid back ending in gentle waves.

"Skirts? Really girls?" Wren's uncle, Jonathan asked from behind the two cousins as he walked along the path. There was a definite family resemblance between Wren's mother and Wren's uncle. He shared her almost-black hair, toothy smile and thin face. The only major difference (aside those that came with him being a boy and her being a girl) was that his hair was rather wavy, almost curly, whereas Wren's mother's was straight.

"I'm wearing a dress, actually." Wren said defiantly, over her shoulder.

"Ah, much better." He joked.

"Well, we'll be in the box this time, right?" Nora asked, turning around and walking backwards so she could face her father. "So it shouldn't matter. Besides, this is what muggles wear. It's _phat_." She sounded very pleased with herself as she said the last word.

"You can't have used that right." Wren said looking at the back of her cousin's head.

"No, that's what all the muggles say. I heard them. I think it's spelled differently."

"Nora, _no one_ says that something's fat in a good way no matter how it's spelled." Wren mocked.

"You can't honestly tell me you didn't hear them use that word. They use it all over the village." Nora protested, turning around.

"If you say so." Wren said. "But, you know, just because we need to _look _like muggles doesn't mean we need to try to _speak_ like them. Especially not when they say ridiculous things like that." Wren's mother and uncle were laughing.

"You should have skipped breakfast if you're going to be like _this_." Nora said, poking Wren in the side.

"I'm not being like anything!" Wren objected. "You're the one who's obviously crazy with lack of sleep, trying to use words like 'fat' and what not." Wren said, poking Nora back a couple of times. Nora retaliated, and soon they were running up ahead in a full out poking fight, the parents left long behind to discuss whatever they wanted to. The girls grew tired of their game rather quickly, calling a truce and stopping, waiting for their parents to catch up. Just as the parents had about caught up, Wren poked Nora in the side one last time.

"Madeleine Sorena!" Nora said, turning reprovingly to Wren.

"What?" Wren and Wren's mother asked together. Wren knew that her mother had answered just to be funny, but the fact was that Wren's mother had passed along more to her daughter than just her good looks. For 15 generations on her mother's side, every girl had been named Madeleine Sorena. It had all started with her great-great-great-great-great (and a lot more greats) grandmother who was given the name Matilda Sorence. After deciding that her name was horrible and that she would by no means pass it down (despite her husband's wishes to name their daughter after her) she changed her name to Madeleine Sorena. Ever since then every Madeleine Sorena named her daughter Madeleine Sorena. No one ever had ever had more than one daughter, and the sons did not follow this tradition (as evidenced by Nora who had been named Eleanora Charlotte Randolph). To differentiate between the Madeleine Sorena's, they each generally went by their own nickname. Wren's mother went by Addy, and Wren herself went (obviously) by Wren.

The name was the only pure legacy that Wren's family had. They were not known for much else besides that and their good looks. While Wren's direct line was pure blooded, there were quite a few "blood traitors" in the family tree, only Wren's family didn't really see them as blood traitors, thus turning the whole Collings and Randolph line into blood traitors. And while there were notable wizards in her family, there were also some disreputable wizards. Wren also didn't come from a pure House line. While most of Wren's mother's side of the family (the Randolphs) were Ravenclaws and the majority of Wren's father's side (the Collings) were Gryffindors, there were a few people on either side who were in different houses. So, Wren was left with her name and pretty face, which, she had come to accept, was enough.

Addy smiled. "What did she do this time?"

"She poked me after we had declared a truce." Nora answered in horrified tones. Addy gasped in mock-surprise.

"This is why you should always skip the niceties and just go straight to an Unbreakable Vow." Aunt Kathleen quipped. Aunt Kathleen was perhaps the best, better even than Uncle Jonathan, at keeping up with Addy. She had been Addy's dorm mate back in their Hogwarts days and it had been Addy's machinations that eventually got Kathleen and Jonathan to finally confess their love for each other. Aunt Kathleen was full-blooded Irishman with bright green eyes and curly light brown hair just like Nora.

The group laughed and continued along the path, breaking up into different conversations. Wren vaguely listened into all three, not paying a lot of attention to Nora who was eagerly chattering away about helping her mother with various experiments. Aunt Kathleen was a Healer who worked to invent different cures for known diseases and preventive measures for future dangers. Wren wasn't quite sure how one went about preventing a disease that didn't exist yet, but Aunt Kathleen was apparently rather good at it. Wren's mother sometimes helped Aunt Kathleen with the herbal remedies, as she was a somewhat famed herbologist. Addy had left the research field for the most part however, deciding to follow her passion of opening up an unusual flowers shop in Diagon Alley.

"Here we are!" Wren's father announced as they reached a small clearing, in the middle of which was an old hat that looked as if it had been through its fair share of storms and been left out in the mud and trampled by people and animals alike. "Come on, let's go. Hands on the portkey. We have 30 seconds" Her father prompted. The family gathered around, each laying a hand on the hat in some way. Wren's father glanced at his watch. "5, 4, 3, 2, here we go!" her father said cheerfully, and they began to spin, on their way to the Quidditch World Cup.

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**Ending Thoughts::**_I love 90s fashion and slang. Also, just a quick disclaimer: while the characters are attractive, **they are not perfect**. Trust me. So, don't worry about Mary-Sues. Along those lines, though, I've posted a picture of all of the characters on my page. The play-bys aren't perfect, but they're close enough_


	2. Bells of Ireland

**(Chapter 2): Bells of Ireland**

**Author's Note:: **_I considered writing out a full day at the campgrounds of the Quidditch World Cup, but I decided that you'd probably rather we get right to meeting the Weasley twins, so I decided to get right to it. (:_

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The family spent the majority of the day inside of their tent, laughing and joking. Of course, within the hour of getting there and setting up the tent Wren climbed into her bed and took a nap, waking up to the laughter of her parents and aunt and uncle who had apparently been drinking some Firewhiskey in order to get into the right spirit for the game. Of course, after waking Wren up, they decided that perhaps it would be best to save the rest of the alcohol for celebration, but the merriment and excitement continued until dusk.

"The saleswizards are out!" Nora called, popping her head back in the tent.

"Let me get my boots on." Wren said, lifting herself out of the chair she'd been sitting in, listening to her father and uncle trade stories about their departments at the Ministry. She hurried back to her bunk slipping the shoes up and quickly doing the laces.

"Are you coming?" Nora asked. By her tone she was asking the adults.

"I think I can spare a few Sickles on the Irish." Her Uncle Jonathan answered. Wren came out of the sleeping area and saw the adults slowly getting up.

"You're going to be spending more than a few Sickles, dear." Her Aunt Kathleen corrected. "And if you're touchy about your Galleons, then you shouldn't have married me." Her Uncle laughed and kissed his wife on the forehead.

"Ready then?" Nora asked beaming at Wren.

"Let's go." Wren nodded. Today was one of the few days where Wren was able to keep up with Nora's bubbly energy. It was something about the spirit of Quidditch matches—especially big ones like this one—that really got Wren excited and ready for everything. All over saleswizards walked around, carrying trays and pushing carts and shouting out for people to come give a look and buy one of the shiny goods.

"Looks like the Ministry gave up on the Statue of Secrecy." Wren's father commented as a new salesman Apparated with a tray of rosettes. "Looking forward to tomorrow then, Jonathan?"

"I spend four years looking forward to it." Her uncle, a respectable Obliviator, answered, his tone clearly contradicting his words, but he still smiled. Wren looked at the bright green rosettes that began to squeal the names of players. Eagerly she emptied a bit of the money from her purse and purchased one, the rest of her family soon following suit, "since he's already here," her uncle justified.

They perused various other carts and trays. Her aunt bought a flag, and her mother donned a pointy green hat with dancing shamrocks on it in spite of Wren's father's protestations that she would never wear it again. Of course minutes later her father bought a miniature Firebolt that zoomed around in circles.

"I may never wear this again, but you already have twenty of those." Wren's mother pointed out.

"I don't have twenty _Firebolts_." Wren's father corrected. "Each year is a different broom!" He sounded like a child, and Wren laughed at him for it.

"Hey!" Nora's voice called from where she had skipped up ahead. "Look at these!" Wren jogged a little to get there, slowing herself by putting an arm around her cousin's shoulders and pulling herself back to stand shoulder to shoulder with Nora.

"What are they?" Wren asked looking at the tiny binoculars.

"Omnioculars, I should think." Wren's father answered before the saleswizard could.

"Ahh, so you've heard of these little beauties." The saleswizard says eagerly.

"_What _are they?" Wren asked, hoping for a clearer answer.

"You can replay action, do a play by play break down, slow everything down. A must have for every spectator." The saleswizard answered. "And they're at a bargain price. Just ten Galleons each." Wren's mother snorted.

"That's hardly a bargain." She answered. "Come on girls, we'll be fine without these."

Wren and Nora who were used to this game after years of attending the Quidditch World Cup, shrugged and started to walk away, Nora letting out a sad: "Oh, ok." It was perhaps the most effective haggling trick in their book.

"Now, wait just a second!" The saleswizard called and Wren's mother turned back. The girls carefully waited for a second before turning back to watch her walk over.

"Yes?" her mother asked. When dealing with issues of money or work, Wren's mother turned into a different person. She was the picture of professionalism and class and extremely intimidating.

"I can see you're a smart witch and that your girls really want these Omnioculars." He was obviously floundering a little bit, as Wren and Nora had made no sign that they must have those Omnioculars besides Nora's initial reaction. Of course, Wren desperately wanted a pair, but as her mother was working to get her the best price, she couldn't just go over and buy them. "For you, and only you, 16 for two of 'em." He offered.

"16?" She answered. "I'd give you 13 for them."

"13 for the two?" he looked horrified. "I'd be out of a job! My kids would starve! The best I can do is 15." Wren's mother paused considering it.

"Very well. 15 for two." She answered, taking out the 15 galleons and paying the man. He begrudgingly handed them over, as if unsure as to why he would give them away for so cheap. No doubt he'd raise the price for the next poor wizard.

"Here you go, girls." Wren's mother beamed, handing both the pairs of Omnioculars. "Enjoy." A deep gong boomed from somewhere beyond the woods, and instantly green and red lanterns lit up in the trees.

"Perfect timing!" her aunt smiled. "Shall we, then?" The family moved towards the stands.

_**x.X.x.**_

The family climbed up to the box, excitedly chattering about the game, Aunt Kathleen violently waved her flag whenever they passed any Bulgaria fans, attempting to drown out their conversation with the national anthem. Wren was certain that she was going to incite an international incident before they got up to the box.

To Wren's relief, her Aunt Kathleen had incited nothing more than a few glares, by the time to get to the box. The box was set at the absolutely highest point of the stadium, exactly halfway between the goal posts, and directly across from the blackboard. Inside the box were twenty-five purple chairs in two rows, and as they entered, Wren noticed that the first row of the box was already filled. Slightly disappointed that they wouldn't be getting the _best _seats, Wren and Nora led the way into the second row, sitting themselves squarely in the middle of the row. "Stephen, these seats are fantastic." Wren's mother complimented, beaming. They had never been in the box before. Wren looked over the row of red hair, attempting to get a better look at the pitch.

"Aren't they though?" a man from the row in front of them commented, turning around. "Don't mean to intrude, but I couldn't help but agree." He smiled good-naturedly. He looked familiar, and it took a second before Wren was able to place his face. She'd seen him every year on platform 9¾ amongst a gaggle of redheads. He had to be a Weasley, and judging by the number of other redheads that sat beside him, he'd brought almost all of his lot with him. Wren wasn't sure why she hadn't immediately jumped to the conclusion upon seeing them. "Ah, Jonathan!" Mr. Weasley stood up.

"Arthur!" her uncle returned, warmly. Wren's uncle moved to get around the rest of his family so that he could heartily shake Mr. Weasley's hand. "Glad to see you up here in the box."

"Likewise." Mr. Weasley returned, pleasantly surprised. "Thought you'd be on duty."

"Luckily, no." her uncle responded. "Had duty the past two weeks so I could get off for this one."

"Did they give you these tickets for your work?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Actually, Stephen got these seats as a thanks from Barty Crouch for all of the work he did to help prepare. I assume you've met my brother-in-law Stepehen Collings, before?" her uncle introduced, and now her father filed past Wren and Nora, bumping into their legs so he could shake Mr. Weasley's hands. Wren was just glad that the seat next to Nora was unoccupied still.

"Ah, yes, Stephen. Pleasure to see you!" Mr. Weasley greeted. Wren knew that her father knew Mr. Weasley from around the ministry, and she had suspected that her uncle new Mr. Weasley as well, but she had not realized how friendly her uncle and Mr. Weasley were.

"Stephen Collings!" one of Mr. Weasley's sons exclaimed. Wren recognized him as being a former Gryffindor Prefect and Head-Boy. She had a difficult time stifling at a laugh as she watched Percy Weasley bow lowly in greeting to her father. In return, her father smiled close-mouthed at the boy, the smile reserved for those who severely annoyed him, but he had to be civil towards. Percy Weasley had been the center of many-a-story at the dinner table as his eagerness to join the ministry and work his way up in the ranks frequently found himself kissing up to her father's boss, Barty Crouch, and sometimes even to Wren's father himself. Wren had known that her father was a respectable member of the Department of International Wizarding Law, but she had not realized just how much until she had seen her former stiff and aloof prefect's glasses fall off his face for bowing so lowly. Wren again found herself attempting to hide a snigger as her father oscillated between addressing him as Weasley and Weatherby, her father's personal favorite of the names that Mr. Crouch called the young worker. In fact, Percy was hardly ever called Percy at home, even by Wren. He much more often graced their conversation after the lead in of, "You'll never guess what Weatherby did today…" Wren's attempts (or, more accurately, _failed_ attempts) to suppress her delight did not go unnoticed as her mother gave her a light pinch. Wren looked up at her mother, a bit ashamed and noticed that while her mother was giving a "_Be good_" look, she was clearly biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling.

"Is this your lot then, Jonathan?" Mr. Weasley asked, pulling the conversation back to a topic that both groups would have some interest in, rather than listening to Percy prattle on and Wren's father make fun of him without him knowing.

"Ah, yes. Well, our lot." Her uncle corrected himself. "There is my sister, Addy and my wife Kathleen. This is Addy's daughter, Wren, and my daughter Nora." Mr. Weasley shook all of the hands he could reach.

"I guess that leads my pack then." He laughed. "There's my older sons, Bill and Charlie. George, and Fred, Ginny, Percy, you know, my son, Ron, and his friends Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

"Merlin's beard, it is. Harry Potter. Pleasure to meet you." Wren's father said. Harry smiled nervously.

"Erm, yeah."

For all of the times Wren's father made fun of Percy, he sounded an awful lot like him in that moment. Wren was about to tease her father, when she found herself addressed.

"So you're Ireland fans?" The twins had turned around in their seat, and looked eagerly at Nora and Wren. They were absolutely identical down to the last freckle (Wren had heard that this was impossible, but she suspected that whoever had decided that it was impossible had never met the Weasley twins.) The only hope of being able to tell them apart was in their demeanor, the way they held themselves, talked to you, their actions, and their voices, which were ever so slightly different. Angelina had revealed as much in her various discussions/rants about the Weasley twins.

"Bit obvious then?" Wren asked with a grin. She had expected Nora to jump in and say something, but she found her cousin had taken up Wren's cause and was off trying to save Harry Potter from their dads' eager questions. "But what about yourselves? Not enough of a fan of either team to even buy a rosette?"

"Not even a rosette, she said." One said to the brother. This had to be Fred. He was always the instigator.

"That's what I heard." The other, George, nodded.

"We'll have you know that we made quite a wager on Ireland's victory."

"That so?" Wren asked. "Well best of luck. I reckon Krum might give us a run for our money, but honestly, Troy is loads better than Ivanova, and Quigley really knows how to hold a bat. Best beater I've seen in my life."

"Best beater you've ever seen?" George asked.

"How offensive." Fred commented. Before they could continue, Wren cut in, laughing.

"Sorry. The best _professional _beater I've seen in my life." Wren corrected herself. She had forgotten in the moment that the two were Gryffindor's beaters on the school Quidditch team.

"A cop out answer." Fred remarked.

"But we'll take what we can get." George finished, and the twins smiled.

"It's Wren Collings, right?" Fred asked.

"Angelina's dormmate?" George added. Wren nodded affirming their belief. While she had been going to school with them (and in t heir same house and year) for the past six years, she had never really had much of a conversation with the Weasley twins. She'd been around as Angelina or Alicia conversed with them, but she'd never been pulled into the circle. Wren had only been casual friends with the two girls up until the past year when she'd gotten much closer with her Angelina and Alicia. Alicia had gone through particularly bad boy troubles, and Wren had helped to console her and then gone the extra mile to make sure that he would never hurt her dormmate again.

"We've seen you at the Quidditch games." That was another thing. Wren's deep love for Quidditch drove her to be a spectator (and a rather vocal one at that) at all of the Quidditch games at Hogwarts. She was proud to support her dormmates and her house, and she was also never one to pass up the opportunity to inform those around her of just how much Slytherin sucked (when it came to Quidditch, of course).

"No way, 'cause I've seen you at Quidditch games too!" Wren responded as if she was absolutely shocked. The twins chuckled and she'd smiled.

"Hey, Wren—"

"Oh, this is my cousin, Nora." Wren introduced.

"Nice to meet you." The twins chorused.

"Nice to meet you too." Nora smiled. "But the games about to start."

"Oh!" Wren said. Somehow she'd missed her family passing by her to get back into their seats and she hadn't realized that the rest of the room had filled up and Ludo Bagman now looked around excitedly, holding his wand to his throat. Wren took out her Omnioculars and focused them on the field.

"Ladies and gentlemen. . . welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!" There was a loud roar as the spectators screamed and clapped. The stadium quivered with excitement as the blackboard wiped itself and now read BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0. "And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce…the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

"Veela!" Wren's uncle called, jamming his fingers into his ears; Wren's father followed suit. Wren watched as the beautiful women glided out onto the field and began to dance, and Wren began to see why her father and uncle reacted the way they did. While she considered them beautiful, and the music was certainly good and they danced quite well, the Veela simply did not have nearly the same effect on her that that they had on the boys. Wren found herself grabbing the back of Fred and George's shirts, and pulling them back down into their seats as they drifted closer to the edge of the box, despite the fact that she didn't actually know them that well. It appeared that Bill, Charlie, and Percy were wise enough to cover their ears, and Hermione and Mr. Weasley were seeing to Ron and Harry. As the leprechauns took the pitch and it began to rain gold upon them all. Wren and Nora laughed and danced around grabbing the gold and cramming it into their pockets before the game finally started.

_**x.X.x.**_

Ludo Bagman was a pretty good commentator, but nothing could beat Fred and George's commentary on the commentary as well as the game. Wren attempted to watch along with her Omnioculars, playing with the dial to speed things up and slow them down, to read the various plays that were being made, but she soon found herself to engulfed with playing with the Omnioculars than actually watching the game. So, when her mother asked to borrow them, Wren gave them away without an argument.

Troy scored the first goal and immediately Wren grabbed George's shoulders, who she was sitting behind, and used them as leverage to jump up and down. He handled it well, only making a small comment about how he was unaware that he'd been turned into a springboard, to which Wren remarked that he was a rather good springboard and might consider it as a career should school not work out.

When Krum pulled a Wronski Feint on Lynch, however, Wren went completely ballistic and started using very foul language to describe both Krum and his mother. Of course, being as vocal as she was, and given the fact that the Bulgarian Minister of Magic was in the box, Wren's mother promptly began scolding her equally loudly, which caused Fred and George to oscillate between fits of rage of Krum and fits of laughter over Wren being admonished.

Things really began to spiral after that when Ireland was awarded a penalty after Zograf's stunt on Mullet, and that caused the Veela to angrily dance again which led the referee to act very strangely indeed, and he had to be knocked out of it by a Mediwizard. Things got very dicey from there when the referee attempted to send off the Veela from the field and Volkov and Vulchanov landed arguing with the ref. From there another penalty was awarded to Ireland, followed by two more penalties for a grand total of four, and that is when Wren got to witness one of the most amazing sites she'd ever seen. The Veela transformed into angry bird-like creatures and began to shoot fire from their hands in a fight against the leprechauns.

"Now, this is what Hogwarts is missing!" Fred called, and Wren laughed before noticing the Quaffle up in the air.

"Look! Moran's got it! He's going for it! He scores!" Wren now shook Fred's shoulders for good measure. She did not let go though because in the next minute Quigley broke Krum's nose with a bludger. "I BLOODY LOVE HIM!" She screamed, her hands digging into Fred's shoulders who flinched and attempted to move away. Wren released him and was surprised that her mother didn't scold her again, but she was too busy jumping up and down. "You boys learn to play like him, and I guarantee I'll marry you. I'll marry you on the spot." Wren said. "But until then he'll always be the best. I LOVE QUIGLEY." They didn't even try to look offended, they just laughed at her. And then Wren caught sight of Lynch. The Irish Seeker had gone into a dive and Krum wasn't too far behind.

"Go! Go! GO!" Wren screamed, grabbing Nora's arm and squeezing it. Nora's own fists were clenched as she waited in eager anticipation.

"Come on!" Fred and George leaned over the railing. Nora was now jumping up and down in anticipation. Lynch ploughed into the ground, and Krum rose up higher his fist held high with a glint of gold in between his fingers. Wren had no time to be upset.

"WE WON!" the twins yelled, hugging each other before doing a little dance.

"Ireland! Ireland!" Nora chanted as Wren pulled her into a hug. Wren could faintly hear Aunt Kathleen's flag, and Nora broke away to hug her mother. The twins turned around and Wren held out both her hands in excitement.

"We won!" she screamed before leaning over the chairs and grabbing George's face between her hands, pulling him into a kiss.

* * *

**Ending Thoughts:: **_Sudden right? Well we'll see what happens next. Getting caught up in the moment may or may not be a good thing. Also, I know these two chapters (and the next one as well) focus rather heavily on Wren's family, but this isn't a permanent thing. The story, as you might have guessed, revolves more around Wren & the Weasley twins. It's just important to set the family up for things that will come into play later (:_


	3. Devil's Trumpet

**(Chapter 3): Devil's Trumpet**

**Author's Note:: **_More action! Yay!_

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It wasn't a full out snog, just to be clear. It was akin to a moment that any muggle would recognize from the movies, when a girl or guy says, _"I could just kiss somebody!_" and then goes ahead to kiss the person closest to him or her regardless of gender. It took until Wren pulled back and stared into George's surprised face that she was still holding between her hands for her to realize what had just happened. Quickly she let go, pushing past Nora and her parents, and over to her own mother, leaving George standing there next to Fred, probably absolutely clueless as to why a girl he'd only properly met a few hours ago had just kissed him. Wren felt absolutely mortified, but if she wanted to play it off as if nothing had happened, she couldn't acknowledge that anything out of the ordinary happened; she couldn't even apologize. Wren threw herself into her mother's arms upon reaching her, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek, and then moved over to her father who took her hands and spun her about. Wren stayed nestled between her two parents, a good distance away from Fred and George, as the players from Bulgaria filed into the box. Wren turned around to watch as Bagman called out each of their names and the players moved to shake hands with both their own Minister of Magic and her Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Wren made quiet comments to her parents as each player passed. As the second to last player was called, Wren caught sight of Krum and was pleased to see that he looked a real mess. His face was still bloody, and he still clutched the Snitch tightly as if someone would take it away from him. The whole stadium roared at the sound of Krum's name, and Wren's comment on the matter was lost in the noise. For all of her remarks about Krum, however, Wren considered Krum to be an excellent Quidditch player, and had he been Irish or had Ireland not made it to the Cup, Wren probably would have scrambled over the back of her chair for a chance to join the line of handshakes just so she could say that she touched Krum's hand.

No sooner had this thought crossed Wren's head than it was forced out by the arrival of the Irish team.

Wren and her family, as well as the Weasleys, cheered and clapped loudly at their entrance. Lynch had to be supported by Moran and Connolly, and he did not look as if he was all there, but everyone grinned as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air. The crowd below thundered. The team left to do another victory lap, and rather hoarse from screaming, Wren resorted to jumping up and down while clapping, being very careful not to look at George or Fred or any of those who came with Arthur Weasley.

"Let's head down before the mad rush to the tents." Her Uncle Jonathan called over the crowd whose sound had not diminished even with the lack of Wren's voice. The family simply nodded in agreement. "It was good to see you, Arthur!" he leaned over, cupping a hand around his mouth in a hope that the sound would carry better over the roars.

"You too!" Arthur called over his merry gang. "See you at the Ministry, then!" Wren forced herself to turn around to give a casual wave in goodbye to Fred and George, but saw that the Weasley twins were gone. Instead, they stood in front of Ludo Bagman, hands outstretched. Wren let go of a sigh, as she turned back around, following her family out of the box. The family wound its way down the purple stairs of the stands, not having fully escaped the rush as planned. The crowd pushed them forward and out, and Wren grabbed Nora's hand to make sure that at least the two of them stayed together.

"Don't think you got away with it cleanly. I saw you!" Nora called over the crowd. Like that, the relief was gone, but Wren wasn't one to give in easily. She continued to look ahead, pulling Nora behind her.

"Got away with what? The comment on Krum?" Wren asked, feigning ignorance. "Honestly, I'm glad someone heard it, I think it was one of my better ones."

"I'll hear about that later, but you _know_ that wasn't what I was talking about." Nora countered. Playing things off with Nora was nearly impossible. While Wren always put up a good fight, her cousin, the tenacious Hufflepuff she was, never let _anything _go. Wren contemplated prolonging the game in a desperate attempt for Nora to realize that Wren really just wanted to move past the whole incident, but the likelihood of that happening was slim to nil.

"I was just caught up in the moment; you know how I am." Wren explained, focusing on the back of her mother's head as they finally broke out of the stadium and headed down the wooded path. A leprechaun flew by overhead, and Aunt Kathleen waved her flag.

"Well of course _I _know that. The question is does Fred? Or was it George? I can never tell the difference between them." For all of her stubbornness when it came to getting the truth out of people, Nora really was quite tactless.

"Well it meant nothing, so it doesn't really matter which twin it was, does it? Besides, I doubt we'll ever really speak again. They're better friends with Angelina than with me." Wren shrugged.

"You certainly looked like you were good friends." Nora remarked. She had a point. "If Simon were to find out—"

"He's not going to find out." Wren said a little too quickly. Nora stopped, planting herself so that Wren was yanked back. Wren turned around to face her cousin. "Nora, it was _meaningless_, honest. It's not like I cheated or anything. I don't want Simon to get the wrong idea about it. It'd break his heart." _And make him very angry._ Wren added in her head.

"If you ask me, you _should _tell him." Nora said, her peppiness gone. "Maybe then you two'd break up, and then you could date George. It was George, wasn't it?" Wren set her jaw and let go of Nora's hand. She opened her mouth to say something before turning around, and walking away with her arms crossed. She'd heard this type of comment from Nora too many times to be angry or upset by it anymore, but the constant pushing for Wren to break up with her boyfriend still annoyed her. Nora's heavy footsteps, recognizable even above the crowd, pounded after Wren. "Wren, I'm sorry. Don't be mad."

"I don't want to break up with Simon, and I don't want to talk about this anymore." Wren answered, shortly.

"All I'm saying you can do loads better than Simon." She said. "I don't like the way he treats people."

"Nora," Wren sighed. "You know that isn't what he's really like. He just an introvert and he has to deal with his father—"

"His father." Nora groaned, interrupting Wren.

"Nora, you saw everything that happened same as me." Wren reproved. Nora relented a little.

"I know. I just think that Freorge would be quite the improvement. It would do you some good to be with someone who actually laughs, smiles, talks to people."

"Freorge?" Wren repeated, ignoring Nora's statement. It was an old argument that she was tired of having. She wanted to move on.

"Well if you aren't going to tell me which one, I'm going to have to call him both names to make sure I get it right!" Wren let out a small laugh.

"If I tell you do you promise you'll drop it?" She bartered as they stopped before the entrance of the tent.

"I promise." Nora said excitedly, not even considering the fact that had she said "no", she could have annoyed Wren to death by calling him Freorge, thus getting Wren to breakdown and tell her.

Wren's mother stuck her head out of the tent.

"When you two are done whispering, we're celebrating with the rest of the Firewhiskey in here, so if you want to have a glass since it's a special occasion, I'd suggest you come in soon." She withdrew back into the tent and Wren looked at Nora who was about to bubble over.

"George." She said, and entered the tent leaving Nora to squeal outside without her.

**x.X.x**

Wren awoke with a start, her heart pounding. She glared around in the dark, listening to the sounds outside that had awoken her. She was all for celebrating, but screaming this late at night was a little excessive. Wren groaned and rolled out of her bed, still wearing her muggle clothes. She had collapsed into her bunk sometime around midnight, well after Nora had dozed off in a chair, unable to hold her Firewhiskey. Nora wasn't as experienced at drinking as Wren was, not that anyone really knew about that. Wren bent over, picking up her wand that had slipped out of her pocket, before stumbling over to the opening of the tent. She was about to pull back the flap to check what was going on when her mother rushed in from outside, letting out a small gasp in surprise at the sight of Wren and raising her wand.

"Wren!" her mother sighed, lowering her wand but not putting it away. "Good. You're up."

"Whaddimeizit? Wazgoinon?" Wren mumbled, rubbing her eye. Wren's mother grabbed her shoulders. Her eyes were wild, and her hair was disheveled, and she spoke very quickly and sharply. "What?" Wren asked, blinking, trying to get her head to catch up with what was going on.

"Get your cousin. We have to get out of here." Her mother shook her shoulders to punctuate each statement.

"Why?" What's—going on?" Wren yawned the last word.

"Get. Eleanora. Now." It was then through the dark, that Wren was able to recognize one emotion clearly on her mother's face: fear. Adrenaline began to rush through Wren, waking her up more effectively than any of Nora's tricks. Why were people screaming? Was that running? What was happening?

Wren pushed past her mother, who shouted "Wren don't!" and attempted, to grab her hand, but missed. Wren stumbled a few steps away from the entrance of the tent and was immediately engulfed in the nightmare. People pushed past her, screaming and running towards the woods. Wren looked around before surging forward, pushing against the tide of people in an attempt to find the cause of the commotion. Tents were crumpled and a few were on fire, but it wasn't until she saw the bodies that she found the source of the panic. Sixty feet in the air were four wriggling bodies: parents and their two children. Wren followed the sight down to see a crowd of hooded figures marching across the field in a tightly packed group, their wands held upright as they manipulated the figures to spin and turn in the air. They were laughing and cheering. It made Wren sick.

"Wren?" Wren turned to see her Aunt Kathleen appeared, looking even more disheveled than her mother. "What are you doing here? Where's Addy? Where's Nora?" Aunt Kathleen grew increasingly panicked.

"They're in the tent—"

"Wren? Wren? Wren!" a familiar voice called, as two figures pushed through the crowd. Wren's mother came into view, dragging Nora by the hand behind her. Her cousin looked completely dazed and her wand hung at her side, whereas Wren's mother's was raised and ready for action.

"Addy!" Aunt Kathleen called running to Wren's mother, and Wren followed.

"Kathleen! Thank God, have you seen—Wren!" Wren's mother let go of Nora's hand and the two mothers quickly ran to their daughters. "You are in much trouble. If you had gone and gotten yourself killed—"

"Addy, they're getting closer!" Aunt Kathleen called. Wren's mother let out a curse, before grabbing Wren's hand.

"This will have to wait until we get home, but believe me—" a tent nearby was blown away, and the group sprinted towards the woods.

"Mum, who are they? What's going on?" Wren asked as she ran along side her mother. They reached the edge of the woods and suddenly a large green shape appeared in the sky. It was eerily familiar, like something Wren had seen in a dream before.

"No." Wren's mother whispered.

"What is it? Mum, what is it? What's happening?"

"The Dark Mark." Aunt Kathleen answered.

"The Dark Mark?" Nora repeated. "As in You-Know-Who's?"

"Are those _Death Eaters_?"

"Grab my arm." Wren's mother commanded.

"They're supposed to be gone!"

"_Grab my arm, damnit!_" Wren complied and after a split second of uncomfortableness the two were back inside of their home.

"Where's Nora? Where's Aunt Kathleen?" Wren's mother shook Wren off, and began to move around frantically, searching for something through the house.

"Home." Her mother answered shortly, opening up various doors to their cabinets.

"Where's Dad?" Wren asked, rooted to the spot. Her mother didn't answer, continuing her search. "Where is Dad?" Wren asked louder, her voice tense. Her mother stopped her search through a drawer.

"I don't know." After a brief pause, she continued the search again.

"You don't know?" Wren's voice cracked. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

"It means I saw him run off with you uncle to help those muggles, and I have no idea where he is right now."

"So Dad's still there?" Wren asked.

"He's your father. Of course he is." Wren's mother moved to the other side of the room. "He's a Gryffindor through and through, just like you. Foolhardy bravery, every last one of you." Her mother gave up on her search in the living room, moving into the dining room.

"You can't just dismiss this!" Wren followed her mother. "We have to go back. That's your husband! And your brother's there too!" Mum, they could _die_!"

"I know that, Madeleine!" Her mother said, slamming her hand down on the table. "But there is _nothing_ we can do. All we can do is sit here and wait because I can't find the _fucking _charm." Her mother sank into a chair, running her hands through her hair.

"No. No! We're capable witches. I passed my O.W.L.S. with flying colours, and you're one of the most brilliant witches I know! We need to go back."

"Wren, it's too dangerous, and not just because of the Death Eaters, but all of the Ministry officials will be scrambling, you get on the wrong end of any wand. And all of those panicking witches and wizards. I thought we were done. I really thought we were done. It's probably that bastard Sirius Black, riling things up. Why can't the Ministry just _find him_?" Wren's mother asked.

"So what if it's dangerous? It's the right thing to do. We need to—" a small pop in the living room cut her off.

"Stephen?" Wren's mother asked, gripping her wand. "Is that you?" Wren pulled out her own wand and followed her mother into the next room. Her father stood there, sooty, but fine.

"Dad!" Wren exclaimed as her mother ran to him, jumping into his arms and kissing him. "What happened?" Wren asked, as her mother came down, but didn't let go of Wren's father.

"Jonathan's ok. The Roberts' are ok. The Death Eaters disapparted as soon as they saw the Dark Mark before the Ministry could make any arrests."

"The Weasley's? Are they ok?" Wren asked.

"I saw Arthur apparate with some of the other officials. I think they went into the woods to try to catch whoever conjured the Dark Mark. I only saw his older three, I think the rest made it out safe."

"Thank goodness." Wren's mother sighed. Silence overtook the three as they looked at each other. "Well," Wren's mother finally stepped away from Wren's father. "I don't think that anyone's going back to sleep. Stephen, you need a shower. I'll go put a pot of tea on." Her parents left the living room, leaving Wren standing there. This had to be a dream. This had to be a dream.

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_**Ending Thoughts:: **__I thought it'd be interesting to see what others thought of the riot at the World Cup. Anyway, reviews are much appreciated (:_


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